Posts Tagged ‘Birth Trauma’

Lately, I have found myself fixated on the fact that I just can’t work out. Because I fractured the wire on my first sacral nerve stimulator while engaging in aqua aerobics, I am worried, actually terrified, that something like that will happen again. Since my “go to” when my emotions run high is food, I am gaining weight. Gaining weight, mixed with an inability to exercise effectively, is a very wrong combination for me.

Prior to having my daughter, I always was an active person. I enjoyed training, competing, and reaping the benefits of a healthy lifestyle. After having my daughter, and extensive therapy, I was once again enjoying the benefits of going to the gym, being a reasonable weight, and a healthy person. I even found that I could exercise carefully and effectively with my first Interstim placement. Once pregnant with my son, and having my pelvic floor slip, being on bed-rest for 19 weeks, fracturing my Interstim wire, and recovering from another surgery, I have continued to lose that overall wellness I used to enjoy.

And I want it back. But, I’m afraid. I don’t want to fracture another wire. I cannot afford the type of trainer I would need that would be able to look at my x-rays, determine wire placement, and recommend safe and effective exercises. I cannot afford to spend weeks/months/years back in physical therapy. I need something, but, I don’t know how to access it or afford it. I really would LOVE to be able to get something in place for “spring training.” Any suggestions?

Almost a year ago, I published a post called, My “Adult” Movie. In this post I discussed the event of Medtronic producing a video about me in an effort to educate people about, and put a real face to, fecal incontinence. Although it’s hard to watch myself, I am proud of the message I am able to portray in parts 1, 2, and 3 of my story. I am linking the videos to this blog to allow others to easily access this information. In addition to my videos, there are many other helpful videos that were made at the same time, talking about different facets of Interstim. These can be found once you view the videos I’ve linked below. They will be in the sidebar. I encourage anyone who wants further information about my personal story, or further information about Interstim, to take a look.

As you may have noticed, I have taken an extreme hiatus from chronicling my life and progress on my blog. For whatever reason, be it moving houses , start of school year, 2 darling children that want their mother all the time, or starting a new job, my blog has been neglected, severely. Regardless of the reason, I have found lately, that it’s been all too easy to ignore this part of my life. Until today.

Today, two very important things happened in my life.

1. The bubble I’ve created around myself, the bubble that has existed as one of joy and wholeness from a fully functional Interstim device, has been shattered. Sadly, while doing a seemingly uncomplicated water aerobic move I felt a snag, then a jolt, then a series of shocks in the area of my implant. Upon further inspection, which included a week of me messing with programming, I realized today through x-ray images that my wires have moved. The incontinence is BACK, the pain of a failing implant is severe, and my mood is sour. Fortunately, all was handled expertly by my Medtronic Representative and rectal surgeon who have assured me that swift surgical repair of the wires will restore my functionality. Additionally, reprogramming of the device until surgical repair has offered some sense of relief. And I realized, this is why. This is why I need to continue to chronicle my own journey. The incontinence never goes away. This is a chronic problem. A chronic problem with a wonderful solution (Interstim), but a chronic issue nonetheless, one I will struggle with, for the rest of my life.

2. Today I responded to 2 e-mails. E-mails from women who have sustained incontinence as a result of nerve damage. Women who are happy that they have found my blog in their quest for validating their own journeys in unfamiliar and terrifying territory. And I realized, this is why. This is why I write my blog. My blog offers me solace, and it offers other people a hopeful message, an understanding, and peace while dealing with incontinence issues, mental illness, and birth trauma.

And this is why, why I will continue to write. Thank you for today, in validating my purposeand the purpose of this blog.

Before. Before I had my daughter, in March 2008, I was a person well versed in the art of lifeguarding. I was a lifeguard, water safety instructor, swim instructor, special olympics swim coach volunteer, cpr/first aid certified. I lived in the water from an early age, and at 15, decided to make lifeguarding my profession of choice until my college degree panned out. At 15, I took my first lifeguarding course, and with ease, aced the physical and written portions of the exam. Throughout the years, I kept up on all of my recertifications, and rarely did a day go by that my life wasn’t touched by water from 1995-2003.. I was either practicing, swimming competitions, teaching swimming, or lifeguarding. Upon graduating from college, I kept up on my certifications in lifeguarding, attending the requisite physical and written recertifications, but chose teaching in a land locked classroom as my primary objective in my daily life. I always assumed I would keep up on these recertifications until lifeguarding would once again fit into my schedule, so as not to take the entire course over again. However, that was not to be.

Another aspect of my life altered due to birth trauma. Because of the incontinence, because of the pelvic floor weakness, because of the PTSD, because of all of these things-I was unable to keep up with my recertifications post partum. In an instant, I lost a big part of me, a huge part of my identity as a person who practically grew up in the water, a person whose skin perpetually smelled of chlorine, a person whose very soul floated freely and happily everytime on the pool deck and in the water, doing something I truly loved.

This past week, I have reclaimed that piece of me. Just another piece, previously shattered, picked up to create peace. I have committed 20 hours in lifeguard training, experiencing and practicing intense and grueling physical rescues, as well as written examinations. I have once again become a lifeguard. I am able to once again watch the water and teach swimming lessons. Why now? Because I can. Also, because I was offered a swim coaching position that required my certifications be up to date. It was a battle, both physical and mental to obtain the courage and strength I knew I would need to regain this certification. But I did it. And, I’m proud.

Sometimes, and often by well-meaning individuals, I am silenced from telling my birth story to others. When in the room with certain individuals and a newly pregnant mother-to-be, I am sometimes told, “Don’t tell her your story, you might scare her.” Aside from being condescending to my entire being, that statement is one that is pretty much in tune with the way things can be in the birth world.

The truth is, I “might” scare her, but more importantly, I “might” educate her about very real issues that were a result of childbirth for me, and, potentially, could be a result for her. Too often, we paint childbirth as a time to be strong, to be courageous, to be natural…when we really need to paint childbirth as a time to be educated. Not only do we need to be educated about the choices we “want” to happen, but the choices that “may” happen during the course of a child being born. It is not enough to research and only validate one set birth plan. It is not enough to think that nothing else will happen, simply because you are “strong.” You need to be educated, educated in all possibilities, not just the ones that you think, or desire, to happen.

Sometimes, people like to qualify my birth experiences, often pointing to different points in my birth story as the “why” to “what went wrong.” The truth is, I was not educated enough before going into the birth of my first child. Sure, I had read EVERYTHING I could about childbirth, had attended birth classes faithfully, brought a list of questions to each Doctor’s appointment, engaged in conversation with my colleagues, friends and family. But, that wasn’t enough. Because the pervasive societal push is for natural, unadulterated, childbirth, omitted in mainstream literature are the gritty, nasty, true, and possible emotional and physical ramifications of a birth gone awry. Too often, these stories are looked at as outliers, and sometimes even, scare tactics, where mothers are blamed for choosing too many interventions, or babies are blamed for malposition.

Yes, I might scare you, and if I do, good. Maybe then you’ll seek to find out more.

At our most recent support group, we discussed living with chronic disease. Our guest speaker, a mental health professional that focuses on chronic disease, was extremely helpful in guiding our conversation. I guess it’s difficult for me to think of my condition, of fecal incontinence, as chronic disease. However, as with most bowel disorders experienced in our support group, the waxing and waning of symptoms throughout my life would define it as such.

Chronic disease and it’s impact on mental health can be severe. As I have shared before, mental health professionals and therapy were pretty heavy components in my healing journey from both the physical and mental ramifications of the birth trauma. In dealing with a condition day after day, a condition that is chronic, one needs to supplement their mental fortitude with strength from others as well as within. It’s not easy for me to know that I will be fecally incontinent for life. However, the facts remain that my sphincter is damaged, and without medical intervention, like the Interstim, I would be completely incontinent of feces. The fact remains that to this day I have good days and bad (mostly good), as well as a medical device that contains a battery that will have to be changed throughout my lifetime. The fact remains that I continue to have diet modifications, as well as, pelvic floor exercise suggestions that I am supposed to follow on a daily basis. The fact remains, I am living with a chronic disease, that, although manageable, can alter both physical and mental outlook.

So, what do you do when you realize that you are living with a chronic disease? According to our speaker, the number one realization that you need to make is that your mind and body are connected. So, even though your mind isn’t “causing” your physical body ailment, your mind can alleviate some of you physical symptoms, or in turn, make them a lot worse. Emotional distress can be the very thing that contributes to chronic disease symptomology getting physically worse. By recognizing this fact, often in treatment, one can pay attention to emotional stressors, thereby problem solving and potentially increasing tolerance for the emotional distress so as not to have it manifest itself physically.

Too often, our anxiety about a chronic disease creates a negative feedback loop that, in turn, creates real physical problems, exacerbation on the underlying chronic illness. It is only in recognizing this phenomenon that we can continue to heal our minds, in an effort to live with minimal disruption of chronic disease.

Recently, I had the distinct pleasure of engaging in a video shoot for Medtronic Interstim device for fecal incontinence. This video will serve to bolster Medtronic’s website for fecal incontinence by providing a real face, and story, to the issue. In coming to my hometown, Medtronic was able to interview me, my doctor, and my family, and capture the impacts on all of our lives from this phenomenal device.

After giving authorization, my family was included in the taping of this promotional video. In basing this video in reality, I thought it important to give the go ahead for my family to be portrayed. When trying to explain to my 6 year old daughter what the purpose of this video was, I found myself stumbling over concepts she may be too young to understand. When asked the question by my daughter, “Will this video be on TV for us to see?” I was able to give the easy answer of “No, it will be on the computer, on a website.” When asked the question by my daughter, “Will my friends be able to watch me?” I was able to answer, “Well it’s like an adult movie.” In summation, my daughter concluded, “Oh, OK, so we are making an adult movie for the computer website…cool, can’t wait to tell my teacher.”

UH Oh. Adult movie, computer website. I am seeing here that she requires more clarification. I show her my scar and proceed to tell her that the video is about “mommy’s surgery” and we will help tell others that need the surgery that they can get it and be happy and healthy families. Phew, bullet dodged. Although, frankly, sometimes talking about incontinence does have the same stigma as talking about “adult” movies.

I am a woman. I am a daughter. I am a sister. I am an educated individual. I am a wife. I am a mother. I am an advocate. I am me.

I am me. But, does everyone know the real me? Sometimes I feel as though I keep a major part of my life locked away, accessible to only those who I know will not judge nor stigmatize. Since the obstetric trauma, in March 2008, I feel as though I have compartmentalized pieces of myself. In starting my blog, in August 2011, I became an advocate. Though largely anonymous, my blog seeks to expose people to the very real ramifications of birth trauma, both emotional and physical. My journey in blogging led me to becoming a Patient Ambassador for Medtronic Interstim therapy, and a facilitator for our local bowel disorders support group. These two endeavors allow me to continue my advocacy in a somewhat sheltered and “safe” environment. Safe from judgement, safe from ridicule, safe from potential embarrassment.

I’m ready for more. Too often, very real medical issues are glossed over in society because of an “ick” factor, a stigmatization. I am ready to be a face of birth trauma, of fecal incontinence after childbirth, of PTSD after childbirth. This is me. I am a real person. I am a young women. I suffered obstetric trauma. I became incontinent of feces. I suffered PTSD after childbirth. I got the help I needed. I attended therapy. I became an advocate. I am a woman of triumph. I am ready to share.

I am ready to share with all. I’m ready to really “expose” myself in the hopes that I may reach people who may never have the courage to seek the help they need without having a very real person to relate to. I am ready.

Recently, I came across an article about a woman who lost her job due to incontinence. The headline reads: Opera Singer Can’t Stop Farting After Surgery, Loses Job. The woman, who suffered a botched episiotomy at childbirth, now endures incontinence issues such as uncontrollable loss of gas and feces. She is suing the hospital due to loss of control, and subsequently, the inability to perform as an opera singer, her occupation. As someone who also, ultimately, had to leave her chosen profession due to incontinence and birth trauma issues, I relate to this woman on a very personal level. I applaud her ability to pursue legal action, and I admire her for going publicwith this very real, and very embarrassing issue. I was initially introduced to this story via my Facebook feed, but then dug around for other news outlets carrying the story. Largely listed under, “weird news,” and on the news feed “gawker,” I now find this story to be listed in the media as a joke. Well, guess what, it’s just not funny. Nor, is it “weird news.” The fact that the media needs to portray an article like this under “weird” eliminates it’s ability to become a mainstream health issue. Furthermore, the comments listed as a response to these articles are largely littered with middle school level jokes and puns about poop, farting, and loss of control. So, congratulations media, for making a mockery of a very real problem for a lot of women, and also, creating an outlet for those wishing to relive their middle school years with crude wisecracks. I’m not laughing.

Sometimes, I cringe. I cringe when I hear stories about birth trauma. I cringe when someone contacts me with yet another story of doctor incompetence resulting in physical and emotional harm. I especially cringe when the doctor that woman tells me about was the doctor who delivered me into my own personal hell. I wonder if this doctor knows the impact she has on some of her patients. The impact of her decisions, especially poor ones, on the individual women who she assisted during delivery and cared for postpartum. The physical and emotional scarring from a doctor who I view as callous and without empathy. I wonder, how many women have left her practice due to her incompetence, and then, I wonder, how many still remain? I cringe.